A Very Roomie Christmas
by Botosphere
Summary: Fassbinder's girlfriend Lisbeth Borg joins him, Sam, Cam, Leo, and Sharsky for a holiday gift exchange during their sophomore year. Lisbeth gets a little more than she bargained for, though.


Authors' Note: Sorry it's a little belated, but we didn't have everyone available to finish this fic up until today. Without further ado, here's our Christmas gift from the Botosphere to you. Happy holidays to all!

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><p>Normal people, Lisbeth Borg assumed, made it a habit of knocking before entering a significant other's dorm room. Because this was a techie and because it was the one and only Fassbinder, she texted him three minutes' warning. Texting him as she got off the bus gave enough time for him to find a clean shirt, shut down whatever CIA website he was currently browsing and throw away anything that he'd forgotten to get rid of after last week's pizza extravaganza. It was snowing, so she had to watch her step, but that was to be expected the second week in December in Pennsylvania.<p>

It was hard to believe that she'd first met Fassbinder just over a year ago, blubbering in the hall when she was convinced she was going to fail her class. Sure, there had been that misunderstanding about him and Sharsky, but once that had all been straightened out, they had slowly but surely become a thing. Not enough of a thing that he'd let her see the robotics experiment that occasionally shouted what sounded like muffled obscenities from the thoroughly-locked file cabinet in his bedroom, but still. Here she was bringing him Christmas presents, including some real mistletoe. She smiled to herself in anticipation - he wasn't exactly the stuff of romance novels, but he made up for it in enthusiasm and was certainly a better kisser than most of the actors she'd had to romance on stage. He was even worth putting up with a few of Leo's weirder tendencies. On most days. Most of the time, she counted herself lucky to have found a bizarrely sweet guy and counted the rest as his ridiculous extended family. Compared to them, Fassbinder's namaste-ing mom had been perfectly low-key.

The blinds moved in the front room's window as she approached his apartment, and her grin widened. He was watching for her. He might have even vacuumed in anticipation of today, when the whole gang got together to exchange presents before everyone went their separate directions for Christmas. If she had been certain that he was the only one watching, she'd have done a little twirl so he could admire all views. But she wasn't giving anyone but her smooch-buddy a free show.

She paused at the door, breathing deeply and hoping she wouldn't smell anything that belonged in a landfill or chemistry lab. It wasn't like she could smell cinnamon or vanilla, so Sharsky hadn't been allowed in the kitchen, but she could smell a hint of Febreze in the air and that meant it was safe to knock.

Before she could raise her hand, however, Fassbinder opened the door, giving her that goofy grin.

She held up the mistletoe so it was over her head. "Hey, babe. Merry Christmas."

"Happy Kwanzaa, Sugar Lips.'

Lisbeth snorted despite herself. They had come to the conclusion last summer that he was okay with being called 'babe' but she couldn't stand the term. So far, he'd experimented with hon, sweetheart, gorgeous and, once, your worship. She had vetoed all of them with a simple, 'no,' though she'd had to put her foot down in greater detail when he thought he'd impress her by calling her 'Desdemona.' He might think it was an homage to a great love story, but she just remembered it as the sweetheart that made a man want to smother her with a pillow. As far as pet names went, sugar lips wasn't bad, but it was definitely for the benefit of the sex-starved teenagers eavesdropping on their greeting.

She stood up on her tip-toes and gave him a quick peck on the lips because it _was _snowing and they were in the open doorway still. Slipping passed him, she took his hand. "Got anything we can hang this with?"

"Sure." He led her through the open living room/kitchen and back as far as the hallway but let her hand drop as he entered his bedroom. She stood in the bedroom doorway, impressed by the almost-pathway where she could see the dull berber carpet peeking through. He rummaged in his closet and came up with a pre-bent wire coat hanger.

"Leftover from last time we locked ourselves out of Leo's car," he said, though no explanation was necessary. The first hanger they'd borrowed had been hers, which had subsequently broken, though the _how_ and _why_ of it had not been at all clear.

They walked back to the living room and Fassbinder looked around speculatively trying to find a place to affix the hanger. Spying a ceiling hook left behind some eons ago by a previous tenant, Fassbinder moved to put the hanger there. Sam however, cleared his throat and said, "No way am I climbing over your computer to kiss under the mistletoe, and I doubt Lisbeth would appreciate it either."

'Binder's face fell as he realized that, yes, indeed, the hook was right above the mess of wires behind his own computer desk.

Sharsky poked his head in curiously from the kitchen, "Who are _you_ expecting to kiss under the mistletoe, alien boy?"

Sam smiled up at them from the couch, "It wouldn't be the first time Mikaela's showed up unannounced. _If_ it should occur, I'd like to be prepared."

Next to him, Leo muttered something that sounded like "pretender" and Sam punched him on the arm.

Lisbeth didn't really care about Sam's chances of making use of the mistletoe, she was much more interested in her own and so held out her hand for the hanger. She twisted an end bit and reached up to hook it over a part of the ceiling fan in the center of the room where there would be equal access for all. Then she put the sprig on the hanger and smiled broadly at Fassbinder as she moved under it.

Fassbinder wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close for a warmer welcome than their brief kiss in the doorway. Sharsky, Leo, Sam, and Cam all groaned, catcalled or called out their scores. Lisbeth could have figured out who did what, but she was a bit too busy getting lost in the kiss. Finally somebody threw something and Fassbinder gestured in the direction of the couch, probably flipping them off. Mood broken, Lisbeth leaned back and giggled just a little despite herself.

"Andale pues," Leo said, and Lisbeth would have put money on him being the one who had thrown the potato-chip bag at them. "I've got a flight to catch. Let's get this party started."

"We're already started," Fassbinder pointed out. "Don't know what your problem is."

"Well, if you want me to join in…"

Fassbinder chucked the potato-chip bag back at Leo, but missed by a foot. "Get your own." Then to her, he offered, "Can I take your coat, milady?"

"Yes, thank you," she said as she shrugged out of her parka, "but that term of endearment doesn't work, either."

Lisbeth surveyed the living room with a set designer's appraising eye while her boyfriend hung up her coat in the closet by the door. There were no huge packages in sight, which meant they weren't upgrading the flat screen, but Sharsky had scooted his desk chair next to something half as tall as he was and wrapped in newspapers and duct tape. Cam, as usual, was sprawled out on the floor.

Most encouragingly, she didn't see a laptop or projector, which meant that they were probably skipping the 'year-end review' that Fassbinder had warned her about. Maybe they didn't want her to know how well their hacking was paying off. She frankly didn't care and, besides, Fassbinder wasn't the type to earn and tell. As long as he didn't hit her up for pizza or tuition money, she was fine with a little mystery.

"So, how are we doing this?" Lisbeth asked Fassbinder had taken a seat on the room's one and only sofa and helped her perch on an armrest. "Clockwise, counter-clockwise? Oldest to youngest? Alphabetical order?"

"Not oldest to youngest," Leo said, glaring at Cam for no apparent reason.

"Not alphabetical order, either," Sam chimed in.

"I don't know," Lisbeth said. "That makes sense to me."

"Yes, Borg Queen, it would," Sharsky sniggered. "How 'bout we roll for it?" He pulled out a 14-sided die from his apron pocket. "Highest number goes first."

In a bout of chivalry, they insisted that Lisbeth roll first, and she got a seven, putting her squarely in the middle. Sam rolled a five, Cam rolled a three, Fassbinder rolled a twelve, Sharsky rolled a suspicious fourteen, and Leo rolled a one.

"That is a TOTALLY loaded die," Leo growled.

"The die never lies," Sharsky shot back. "Don't be a sore loser."

The rules of the dungeon or dragon or whatever dictated that you didn't argue with a roll, so Leo shut up. It was with an obvious grudge that he dug a wrapped present from a desk drawer and chucked it at the die-caster. Lisbeth recognized the campus bookstore's wrapping paper. It turned out to be...educational software.

"SWEET!" Sharsky squeaked, ripping the box open. "My Photoshop's been needing an upgrade!"

Lisbeth had thought many times that one pixelated kitten looked like every other, with upgraded software or not, but she wasn't about to get them into an argument that would keep them debating until Groundhog Day.

"Put it to good use, punk," Leo snapped. "If people aren't drooling over this year's resolution, I'm demoting you to waterboy."

"Sir, yes, sir," Sharsky said distractedly while reading the accompanying documentation.

"Focus," Sam told him, rising from the couch and stepping over Cam to hand Sharsky a gift bag. "I hope you like it as much as the donor."

Lisbeth couldn't see exactly what was in the fancy frame, but it made Fassbinder snort a newly-opened Red Bull up his nose and Sharsky looked strangely misty-eyed.

"Ah, the memories," he said.

"Do I even want to know?"

Sharsky passed it over immediately and Lisbeth read enough of the legalese to discern that Sam had immortalized an important milestone in any college boy's life: Sharsky's first restraining order. She could tell that this was the sort of thing he'd hang instead of something practical, like his diploma or pictures of his family.

"And along those same lines, here's my gift," Fassbinder said, handing over a small envelope. Sharsky eagerly opened it and flashed a broad grin. "Thanks, man."

Lisbeth read upside down well enough to see that it was a gift certificate for a local speed-dating service. "So you can go out and get another one…" Lisbeth gave a small frown, but didn't say anything.

This was like giving a convicted axe murderer a 9-mm handgun for his birthday, but maybe Sharsky had learned his lesson. If not, he'd have another thing to frame by the end of the first session.

Cam frisbeed a flat, brightly-wrapped package at Sharsky, who fumbled it onto his lap. Even Lisbeth could see it was a jewel case. He tore open the paper and read the hand-written CD label out loud. "2010 Flirt Music." Looking from Cam to Sam to Fassbinder, he said, "You guys totally conspired, didn't you!"

"Any time you say it better than these bad boys, you can stop listening," Fassbinder said.

Lisbeth leaned over and Sharsky yanked it out of view. "This is not for your eyes," he protested.

"If I can't hear it, how do you expect the hot girls next door to?"

"It's like Jock Jams," Sam explained. "You use it to get pumped up, not to get everyone else going."

"Bad metaphor," Leo muttered.

Lisbeth agreed with him for once, but had more concerns about the content than the intent. "Please tell me 'Fat-Bottomed Girls' isn't on there."

"Track 7," Cam said proudly.

"After 'Let's Get it On' and before 'S&M,'" Sharsky read.

"Don't worry," Fassbinder commented, elbowing her playfully in the ribs. "Nothing about your body makes the rocking world go 'round."

It was clearly meant to be a compliment to her buns of steel, but she couldn't let him get away with that. "I'm _sorry?_" she hissed, putting some distance between them. "_Nothing about my body… _Did you really mean to say that?"

Fassbinder got the panicked look that she associated with a props master at dress rehearsal. "Oh, no. Nonononono."

"What he means to say is there are…"

"I know exactly what he meant to say," Lisbeth snapped at Sharsky. "And if you even try to weigh in on this, I'm putting arsenic in your fudge when you're not looking."

He hid behind his users manual and wisely shut up. The others looked ready to pop some popcorn in the microwave for the rest of the show.

"What you mean to say?" Lisbeth prompted her significant other.

"You don't need to be a fat-bottomed girl to rock my world," he said meekly, but sincerely. "And your bottom is perfection."

"Good boy," she said approvingly. "You have my permission to live."

"Yes, sweetie."

She cracked a smile to let him know that he was off the proverbial hook, but reserved anything mushier for a more private setting. Make-up make-outs were some of their best sessions.

"So, what's after 'S&M?'" Leo asked, prompting Sam to smirk.

"'There Is Nothing Like a Dame,'" Sharsky read. "I didn't know you were such a romantic, Cam."

Cam just grinned. Sam leaned over to read the rest. "And finishing off with 'Pretty Women' from _Sweeney Todd_. You guys are _twisted._"

"Thank you very much," Cam responded deadpan via his cell phone. All the boys had treated it like a normal thing that he could always pull up the perfect quote, but Lisbeth had long ago begun to suspect that there was more to Cam than met the eye. For one thing, he was just a little too...perfect. His hair was never mussed or his shirt wrinkled. Not that she'd ogled him, it was just something that a former wardrobe mistress noticed.

Fassbinder nudged Lisbeth with his elbow, pulling her out of her musing. "Oh, here's mine, Sharsky. A little less twisted than these guys." And she passed a package over to him.

Granted, if anyone could get turned on by a muffin tin, it would be Sharsky, but he simply turned it over and over. "No recipes?"

"Not this time," she said. "I promise we'll find some to try out after the break."

She knew that if she'd gone with her original plan and gotten him that cookbook she'd seen on Amazon, he would have come back having tried half of them without her. That just wasn't fair.

"Can we hurry this up?" Leo interrupted. "Some of us have flights to catch."

"And some of us just can't wait their turns," Sam said. "Binder's next?"

"Bring it on," Fassbinder confirmed.

Before anyone could volunteer to go first, Sharsky coughed pointedly. "Mine. Now."

"What were you saying about turns?" Leo deadpanned.

"Don't be a sore loser," Sharsky said. "And loverboy needs time to install this."

"No one's installing anything-video card, burglar alarm, whatever-until we're done with the exchange," Lisbeth said, resorting to the tone of voice appropriate to a kindergarten teacher. "Let's see what Sharsky got you."

He went to the cleaning closet and wheeled in a patchwork-wrapped monster of a box on a refrigerator dolly, and Fassbinder eagerly tore at the wrapping. It was...another filing cabinet. For someone who kept everything he ever cared about on a hard drive, Fassbinder seemed to have an over-abundance of the things and Lisbeth could not fathom why this one had extra sets of locks and a keypad.

"Wow," Fassbinder said, looking as if he was fighting the urge to laugh. "Just what I always wanted."

"Forget wanted," Sam said. "This is what you _need._"

"Why?" Lisbeth dared to ask.

"This one's sound-proof," Sharsky said proudly.

As if on cue, the drawer demon they had locked in the other room let out a "BAH HUMBUG, MOTHER…." and ended with a burst of static. Fassbinder went to shut the door and inexplicably locked it from the outside.

"Thanks, man," he said upon returning, fist-bumping Sharsky. "I'm sure he'll like it better in there."

Apparently, lacking a dog or a child, he thought of his robotic experiment as either a pet or a pesky little brother. She shouldn't have been surprised.

"Mine you have to install," Leo pointed out, passing over another box-shaped object. "Sooner than later, if you know what's good for you."

It was one of the routers that they were always trying to get her to buy whenever she expressed that she was just fine with the speed of the campus internet.

"My router works just fine," Fassbinder said immediately. "I'll save this for when it bursts into flame."

"No, your router craps out when more than five devices connect at once. You ever want to host game night here again, you'll save this for about five minutes from now," Leo threatened. "I ain't got no call of duty and my assassin forgot his creed because he was too distracted by your massive latency."

"Incentive," Fassbinder muttered to Lisbeth. "If I hold out long enough, I don't have to see these guys again until graduation."

"I'll keep it until April," she compromised, knowing full well he couldn't go two days without seeing one of them at least. She didn't even know the names of his current roommates, and she wasn't sure he did either.

"Mine next," Sam said, tossing a book shaped gift at him. Fassbinder, also detecting the bookishness of the item, looked at Sam suspiciously.

"You couldn't have gotten a Kindle edition?"

"You need to unplug for a few hours," Sam reasoned. "It'll be good for you."

Warily Fassbinder opened it to find _How to Win Friends and Influence People_. He blinked and said, "Um..thanks?" with a complete wtf?! expression on his face.

"Are there dating tips in there?" Sharsky asked predictably.

"He doesn't need them," Sam said. "He got the hottest girl on campus using Red Bull and C++."

Sometimes, Lisbeth mused, she could see why Sam had a long term girlfriend. And since Mikaela still hadn't finalized her plans to come East, she could accept the hyperbole.

"Why thank you Sam," Lisbeth said, and just to rile Fassbinder, winked at him.

Fassbinder gave her an annoyed scowl before waving the book in Sam's face to get his attention, "So...why?"

"Because if you actually hope to get one of those techie jobs you claim to richly deserve, you should probably have people skills that don't include sucking up to Cami Rawlins."

"Word," Leo agreed.

Fassbinder looked a little affronted by the king of come-ons critiquing his social life. "I have people skills! I tutor people."

"Actually, according to Cami, you make them cry." Sam put in.

"Only if they sass me. And _when_ were you talking to Cami Rawlins?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? She and I are in the astronomy club together." Sam gave a Cheshire Cat grin. He knew very well he hadn't told them this before and had been just waiting for the perfect time to let it out. "But this is the 1936 edition. It's the director's cut."

"Which means there are more sex scenes?" Fassbinder asked blankly, earning himself a slap on the back of the head.

"Which means it's got the relationship advice that was censored from the 1981 version."

"Relationship as defined by the world before Rosie the Riveter," Lisbeth pointed out. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I don't think it can hurt and you can translate it into the modern tongue for him," Sam assured her. "You might even take a look...for a good laugh."

She would have to swipe the thing and take a red pen to it, or an X-acto knife if more extreme editing was required.

Fassbinder looked up at Lisbeth with his best puppy-dog eyes, causing her to break out in giggles before he could even say anything. "Here," she said, unceremoniously handing him a clothing gift box. "Hope you like them."

"Am I okay to open these in front of the guys?" he wondered with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Lisbeth deadpanned, "Your mom and I coordinated, so yes."

Pouting ever so slightly, he unwrapped the box and lifted the lid. He pulled out a red button-down shirt with a crisp collar and stared at it for a minute. "Thanks?"

"So you'll have something nice to wear when you take me out for Valentine's Day," she clarified, hoping to raise his spirits a little.

"Does this mean I can get something for _you _to wear on Valentine's Day?" he asked, a worrying sparkle in his eyes.

"As long as you coordinate with your mom, too, then yes," she allowed.

There were various moans and mutters of "Burn!" and "Take all the fun out of it!"

Fassbinder moved a piece of tissue paper in the gift box and pulled out another shirt - yellow this time - with a slightly different cut.

"To wear when you're out to win friends and influence people," Lisbeth couldn't help but say.

She could almost see it when the pieces fell into place in Fassbinder's mind. This was a vote of confidence in him, that he'd have a _reason _to want to look sharp from time to time, whether it was job interviews or spending a night on the town with her.

"Oh," he said, and he was genuinely grateful when he added, "Thanks."

She leaned over to give him a quick peck on the lips. "You're welcome."

"I hate to interrupt this beautiful moment," Cam's cell phone said, and the maybe-not-human reached over to hand Fassbinder another wrapped jewel case.

"If this is more flirt music," Lisbeth began, but he shook his head with a sly smile.

Fassbinder unwrapped it, and his brows knit together in confusion. "Um...thanks, man."

All the boys leaned closer to see, but from her perch on the couch's armrest, Lisbeth could clearly read the label: Culture 101.

Fassbinder flipped the case over to read the contents and Lisbeth started chuckling despite herself. Instead of songs, it looked like he'd raided everybody from Shakespeare to Oscar Wilde to Sophocles for theatrical monologues. Judging by the fact that track 1 was "Romeo under the Balcony" they were probably romantic ones. Though how "It is the east and Juliet is the sun" could be on the same playlist as "Ignorance is like a delicate, exotic fruit," she couldn't imagine. When she glanced at Cam, he was grinning like an idiot and held his hand out to her for a fist bump. She obliged and then nudged Fassbinder. "We'll listen to these together the next time we're eating pizza by candlelight."

"I'll wear my red shirt," he promised with a smirk.

"Dude!" Sharsky groaned. "Don't call it that. You may as well call it the shirt of death!"

Lisbeth gave him a baffled look, and they launched into a five-minute tangent on _Star Trek's_ famously-expendable red-shirted security officers. Leo of all people finally got them back on track by saying, "Mijos, what about _my _loot?"

"Lisbeth goes next," Fassbinder pointed out.

"And then me," Sam added, giving Leo a slightly-superior look.

"Here," Sharsky said, handing her a present, but Fassbinder intercepted it. "Boyfriends first."

It was with some trepidation that she accepted the wrapped clothing-box from him, especially after his comments about Valentine's Day. She opened the lid a crack and then grinned in both relief and amusement. "Thanks so much, Fassbinder," she exclaimed, lifting up the t-shirt inside and holding it against her torso to make sure it would fit. Across the bust there was a picture of a stage with curtains open, and on the set were a table and bed. Underneath the images, it said "Eat, Sleep, Stage Design."

"This is perfect," she said, throwing an arm around him for a sideways hug.

"Mikaela helped him," Sam tattled.

"Thank her for me, too," Lisbeth told him.

"Now mine!" Sharsky protested, and Fassbinder handed the present to her.

The small package was so heavy Lisbeth almost dropped it at first, underestimating the weight. When she ripped away the paper, she couldn't help but grin. _Of course _he would get her cooking supplies. Or in this case, baking supplies. "Thanks, Sharsky. Ramekins are one thing I don't have."

"Good. I got them because I noticed you didn't have any… and they sounded dirtier than they actually are."

Fassbinder threw a wadded-up piece of wrapping paper at Sharsky, who easily ducked.

"And a little something from me, _linda_…" Leo said, handing her an envelope. If it was cash, she was going to be mad at him. Instead, when she opened the envelope, she found an iTunes gift card.

"For all the crap they're always singing on _Glee_," he said before she could say thank you with a vague wave of his hand. "I know you're into all that theater stuff."

She pursed her lips in annoyance. Just because she was a theater nerd didn't automatically make her a Gleek. Pointedly _not _thanking him, she turned to Sam.

Leo muttered, "What?"

Fassbinder, who had once had a conversation with her about not being a Gleek, frantically waved his hands, trying to cut off the argument before it could start.

With ill grace, Leo let it go (but probably only because she was already spoken for).

Sam gingerly handed her another envelope. "This was also on Mikaela's advice."

Sheesh, it wasn't like she was going to bite him! He wasn't the one stereotyping her. Inside, she found an actual Christmas card (a nice one with foil and everything) and an Amazon gift card. It was a nice, safe gift for a guy to give his pal's girlfriend, and the smile she gave him was genuine. "Thanks."

"Sure," he said with visible relief.

Cam held up yet another jewel case from where he was lounging on the floor, and Lisbeth curiously accepted it. Tearing back the paper, she saw that the label read "He Loves and She Loves."

"Really?" she squeaked, flipping it over to read the contents. Sure enough it was full of Gershwin classics, half of them sung by Ella Fitzgerald. With a warm smile, she said, "Thanks so much, Cam."

"I don't get it," Leo exploded. "I give you an iTunes card and I get the cold shoulder. Alien boy gives you an Amazon card and you're fine and _this _punk…" He kicked at Cam's shoe. "He gives you crappy old songs and you're all _sweet _to him!"

"Not all romantic musicals are evil," Cam's cell phone pointed out.

"It's called tact and taste, Leo," Sam said. "If there were a way to box them up for you, we would."

Lisbeth didn't deign to speak to Leo - especially since Cam and Sam had already covered the bases. Instead she turned to Sam and handed him her present.

Sam ripped the wrapping paper off and examined the box suspiciously, "It's been opened."

Lisbeth snorted, "So I could preload it with pictures of Mikaela, you doofus."

Sam's face cleared and he grinned, "Cool!" he pulled the digital photo frame out of its box and whipped his head around looking for an open plug. His face fell when he discovered he could not find this rare commodity and sulkily put it back in the box to plug in once he got home.

"Here!" Sharsky said excitedly shoving a somewhat crumpled envelope in Sam's direction. Sam took it from him looking unsure of how to interpret Sharsky's enthusiasm. But when he opened the envelope his eyes widened.

"This...wow, thanks Sharsky, that's a great gift." He showed them all the contents of the envelope-a buddy pass for Delta airlines. Even Lisbeth was impressed.

Sharsky grinned proudly and nearly preened.

"How'd you pull that one off?" Sam asked. "Don't you usually have to be buddies with...I don't know, connections?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no...well, it was that girl I helped with her midterm. Her dad's a pilot and it was the least she could do…"

"So you mooched," Leo said. "You didn't actually spend any money on this."

"I gave Sam my _time_," Sharsky shot back. "Geez, haven't you ever read _The Five Love Languages?"_

"No, no I haven't." Leo said firmly."And I'm pretty sure you just skimmed it while picking up chicks in the bookstore."

"Well, yeah, but it's the thought that counts."

"You mooched," Leo repeated.

"Hey!" Sam cut in, "I'm not complaining about how he got it. I'm perfectly happy with it no matter how much he did or did not spend."

"Taking advantage of women for daddy's assets," Leo said. "I'm just so damn proud."

Fassbinder nodded. "Our little boy is all grown up."

There was a moment of hesitation as though no one wanted to go after that gift, but finally Leo took the plunge and tossed a gift in Sam's direction.

Sam caught it, hefted it, and then gave Leo a curious look. "A book?"

"Just open it."

Sam tore open the wrapping paper to reveal "Mysteries of the Three Kings," with a picture of a bunch of Egyptian pyramids and gray-faced aliens on the cover.

Sam looked at the front in bewilderment and then flipped over to the back whereupon he started laughing hysterically.

"I've heard of that one," Lisbeth said. "My brother says this is the guy who thinks that the pyramids were built by the same guys who master-minded the Mayan temples. Something about coordinated hieroglyphs."

"Except this edition has a new chapter, looking at how the recent events at Giza fit into the bigger picture. It'll blow your mind."

"Pictures," Sharsky said eagerly. "Tell me they've got HD pics of little green men climbing the pyramids."

"I think it's mostly from security cams," Leo said. "You had to be on the ground to get _Armageddon-_quality HD."

"I can live with surveillance cams," Sharsky sighed.

"It's _mine_," Sam said distractedly as he flipped through occasionally stopping and skimming a page. Then he turned to the end, presumably to the new content, and yelped, "Oh, God, my name's in the index." He closed the book hurriedly and set it down as though it were poisonous.

There was a snicker from Leo.

Fassbinder took mercy, of a sort, on Sam and handed him his gift. Sam gave him a betrayed look, "_Two_ books?"

Fassbinder shrugged, "What goes around, comes around," he motioned to Sam's own gift to him.

Sam sighed and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement and opened the book. "The _Elements of Style_?"

"Wandering pilot," Fassbinder said with a very straight face. "Wandering pilot, my friend."

"I was a freshman!" Sam protested.

"I read that crap you thought about _Anna Karenina, _too," Fassbinder pointed out. "None of them were a metaphor for Stalin."

"They were Russian," Sam said defensively.

"They were in the wrong century," Fassbinder said. "At least, this way, when you can't tell your 19th from your 20th, you'll do it with good sentence structure. And any time you want a proofread, I'll want you to check the paper against this first."

"Geez, you're like my mother," Sam grumbled. "No, nix that, Mom's where I got it from. You're like...like…"

"The annoying disciplinarian you never had?" Fassbinder suggested.

"The fount of all useful knowledge?" Sharsky added.

"Your writing god?" Fassbinder concluded. "Yeah, that's exactly what I am. I'm the pain in the aft who's going to make sure you never flunk another writing assignment."

"Thanks," Sam said resentfully.

Cam played a short, heraldic flourish to get everyone's attention and, once he had it, presented Sam with a large box. Evidently Sam was the only one _not_ getting a mix CD, unless Cam had decided to be cruel and package it in a deceptively large box.

Sam slid the professionally tied bow off the box and lifted the top to reveal layers of tissue paper. Peeling those back Sam found a black jacket, Curiously, he pulled it out and examined the tags. He gave Cam a surprised smile, "A kevlar jacket?"

"Dude," Sharsky said, "that's so bad-ass it hurts to look at it."

"Definitely," Leo said a little enviously. "With that thing on, I bet you could even get a long, wild ride from one of the triplets."

"Wild is the only way they do it, amIright?" Sharsky sniggered.

"GUYS," Sam blurted out. "IN THE ROOM!"

Lisbeth expected him to look to her, since Sam was usually the one who cared that she was a lady, but he looked in apprehension at Cam. Luckily, Cam didn't seem to have caught up to the dirty joke yet. It was best if they changed the subject _right then. _Taking the initiative, she reached for her present to Cam. Sam took a different tack and bro-hugged their resident bouncer.

"Thanks for looking out for me, 'Bee," he said, sounding a little bit choked up. In a manly way, of course.

It was then that she remembered the campus shooter earlier that year, when Sharsky and Fassbinder had stayed with her at her parents' house. They had been freaking out because Sam and Leo had gone off the radar in the chaos, but oddly enough they hadn't been as worried about Cam. Apparently, they knew more than she did because _he_ had been taking care of _them_, or taking care of Sam at least.

This left Lisbeth awkwardly holding Cam's gift as her brain processed that and now people were looking at her expectantly. She blushed a little and handed the gift to Cam.

She'd been a little nervous about picking out a gift for the guy-she knew Mikaela even better than Cam-but was aware enough to know there was something not-quite-normal about him, not even counting his mutism. But when she'd seen it, she'd been struck by the idea that it was perfect for him.

He opened the wrapping paper and stared at the title _Earth (The Book): A Visitor's Guide to the Human Race_.

"Well, what did the snow queen get you?" Leo grumpily demanded when Cam continued to stare at the book in shock. He crossed the room and read over Cam's shoulder then slowly his jaw dropped open.

Fassbinder looked up at her curiously before glancing over at Sam, Cam, and Leo who were all apparently speechless. Lisbeth felt her blush deepen. "Come on, guys," her boyfriend encouraged. "What'd she get him?"

"Third Rock from the Sun, Frommer's Edition?" Sharsky sniggered.

Cam opened the book and read the first bit of the opening chapter and was suddenly grinning. Lisbeth relaxed a bit; she wasn't sure if she committed some huge faux pas, but Cam apparently was taking it in good form.

Sam, however, wasn't laughing, and she was surprised at the intensity of the look he gave her when he answered Fassbinder, "A visitor's guide to the Earth." He was dead serious in a way she hadn't thought possible for him.

"Gimme that," Leo ordered. "I wanna fact-check it before you start."

"Like you know anything?" Sharsky challenged.

"I know that if it doesn't explain Justin Bieber, it's twenty bucks wasted," Leo said. "Just lemme see the index."

Cam's ringtone quoted some seagulls from _Finding Nemo, _"Mine! Mine!"

Sam's eyes were still boring into her, trying to read her, and she felt a slight prickle at the back of her neck. She was _right_. His reaction was too serious, too real. Cam was an alien and Sam at least knew. But no, if Sam knew, the guys who had been scouring the net for little green men since middle school would know, too. They'd have seen the signs. If her instincts had been right about anything, that meant that she had just picked up on the best-kept secret in their dorm-the face-hugger in the room, so to speak.

Fassbinder looked from Sam to her and back a couple of times. "Lisbeth?"

She broke eye contact and glanced down at Fassbinder. "I don't know," she said, trying not to sound like this was an intervention. "I thought it'd be funny."

There seemed to be a very silent and very intense set of things not being said between the end of that sentence and when Fassbinder let out a weak, very forced chuckle.

"'Binder, kitchen. Now," Sam growled.

Sharsky grimaced and Leo rolled his eyes, but Cam just flipped the page and kept reading.

Fassbinder groaned and shifted his shoulder out from behind Lisbeth, displacing her a little on the couch's armrest. He, reluctantly, followed Sam into the not-at-all-enclosed kitchen area where he proceeded to be chewed out in a fierce whisper. Fassbinder shook his head violently and waved a hand at Sam, whispering back an obvious denial.

Sam looked about ready to launch into a more audible lecture when he stopped and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He'd apparently gotten a text. He closed his eyes for a moment and then flapped a hand at Fassbinder to let him know he could go back to the couch.

There was a moment of silence, only broken by the turn of pages from Cam, and then Sam said, "Be right back, I need to use the restroom."

There was some awkward fidgeting until everyone heard the toilet flush and Sam came back in, and apparently, decided that the best thing to do would be ignore the entire preceding weirdness. He sat back down and looked around expectantly.

"So, who's next?" Lisbeth asked.

They all stared at her like she was trying to order steak in the middle of a volcanic eruption. She looked back, daring them to challenge. Something was up, they all knew it, but that wasn't important. Whatever there was to say, she was going to let Cam say it in his own time. She'd been around theater guys long enough to know how important it was to let a truth come out under the right circumstances.

Leo cleared his throat and handed over a gift shaped like a bottle of Lysol. Cam, who was more aware of what was going on around him than he appeared, promptly set the book down and took the gift. Opening it up he grinned and reached for his phone to, presumably, play a sound bite, but Leo spoke first.

"And maybe the triplets will help you with it."

Cam immediately blushed, which made him look unexpectedly adorable to Lisbeth. Maybe he _was _an alien, but he was still human enough to blush and that set her at ease more than she expected. Though why _car wax_ made him blush, she wasn't sure. Sam's frown returned and she carefully avoided the mental images that were trying to get her attention. _In his own time_, she reminded herself.

"Thanks, man," Cam's cell phone played.

Sam handed Cam an envelope. "Merry Christmas. It'll have to wait until summer, of course, but since we'll be heading that direction anyway to go see Mikaela…"

Cam opened the envelope eagerly and read the contents excitedly. Eyes practically glowing he then, unashamedly, hugged Sam.

"What is it?" Leo demanded.

Sam ducked his head slightly, looking more like himself again. "I got someone to...pull some strings with the Bureau of Land Management and got a permit for next July for a day at the Bonneville Salt Flats-closed to the public."

Lisbeth's eyebrows rose in surprise despite herself. Just how did Sam pull that one off?

Fassbinder and Sharsky exchanged a look and each reached for large gift bags at the same time. "For old time's sake," Sharsky said as Cam pulled away the tissue paper from his bag. Inside was a pair of fuzzy dice and a trunk organizer. Lisbeth could see seat covers and, inexplicably, two travel pillows and a space blanket. Cam's shoulders started shaking in silent laughter and he stood to clap him on the shoulder in thanks.

"And because we know how clean you like to keep your car…" Fassbinder said as he handed over his bag. Inside were floormats, an air freshener shaped like a bumblebee, and a steering-wheel cover. Again, 'Bee gave him a manly pat on the shoulder.

There were so many inside jokes floating around with these gifts that Lisbeth knew she wasn't privy to, but she figured she'd done enough damage for one day with her gift and didn't ask any questions.

Leo clapped his hands together once in anticipation and crowed, "My turn!" Looking at Lisbeth, he asked, "What do you have for me, Sugar Lips?"

Still giving him the silent treatment (though mostly on principle at this point), she gave Fassbinder a pointed look. He shook his head with a goodnatured grin and reached for the present she'd brought for Leo.

"OK, disclaimer first, I had no idea somebody else was also getting this as a gift," Lisbeth said as Fassbinder passed the envelope over.

It was identical to the certificate that Sharsky had pulled out of Fassbinder's gift envelope. "Speed-dating?" Leo said. "What, you think I can't get me some sugar 'less it's a captive audience?"

"O-M-G," Sharsky gasped. "You can totally be my wingman."

"Naw, man, I ain't being no _gringo_'s wingman," Leo objected. "We're there to make me look good."

"First of all," Lisbeth interjected, "you're not allowed to go on the same night. I will enforce this with duct tape if necessary."

"_Promesas, promesas,_" Leo said with a leer.

"Ew," Lisbeth proclaimed, "secondly, _no means no_. Have fun, don't be skeezy."

"It's like she doesn't trust us at all," Sharsky muttered to himself.

It wasn't that. It was that Lisbeth understood very well why certain of her male friends were incapable of keeping female companionship for longer than a week, or in some cases longer than a day.

"I know," Sam said in an undertone, "It's like she _knows_ you."

Sharsky sniffed but didn't deny it.

"We'll wear her down eventually," Leo promised in a low voice. "Next!"

Cam let fly with larger flat package, that was probably not a mix CD, and Leo came very close to grinning in anticipation. He ripped off the paper and found a glossy magazine cover. It wasn't the type of magazine Lisbeth would have expected either.

"Guns & Ammo?" Sharsky asked, completely puzzled.

Leo, who looked pretty happy about the gift, said, "Hey, I fully appreciate my third amendment rights!"

There was an awkward pause and Sam then spoke, "I think you mean second."

Figuring this one wasn't related to Cam, Lisbeth blurted out, "Why? Just..._why_?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you, sweetheart," Leo drawled.

Fassbinder and Sharsky looked just as clueless as Lisbeth felt. That was something of a comfort. Whatever Leo's thing with guns was, her boyfriend didn't know about it. Though, the idea of Leonardo Ponce de Leon Spitz anywhere near a Saturday night special was _really_ not.

Fassbinder's package was about the same size and shape as Adobe Photoshop had been, so Lisbeth expected more software. Leo clearly did as well, ripping it open eagerly. His face fell at the yellow packaging.

"_Mijo,_" he said as patiently as possible. "_Nino insensato. Tonto. _ I speak the damn language!"

He ripped the rest of the paper free to reveal Levels 1-3 of the Spanish Rosetta Stone.

"Not like this," Fassbinder said. "I thought you should know something other than food and four-letter words."

Given the quality of Spanglish that Leo had been known to come out with, it was a very thoughtful gift. Leo giving Fassbinder the finger was less so. Fassbinder just laughed.

Sam apparently decided to break up the fight by handing over his own gift bag. The first thing he pulled out of the bag was deodorant. Followed by another stick. And another one after that. Apparently, Sam had caught on that boys' rooms didn't _have _to smell like that. Her theory was solidified by the number of Febreze bottles that Sam had included as well. The final item was hair gel.

"We're going to smell like mountain meadows and spring morning," Leo complained.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "and the neighbors will stop calling the cops about the decomposing body stench coming from your bedroom. It's the gift that keeps on giving."

Leo didn't apparently mind the decomposing body comment. He just shrugged, gave the deodorant an experimental sniff and put it back in the bag. "NEXT!"

He was like a toddler who had been denied a toy for long enough and was reaching the end of his attention span and rope. Luckily, they were down to the last item, if Lisbeth wasn't mistaken.

Sharsky's wrapping jobs were notoriously bad. He usually got one end wrapped perfectly and then chose to crumple up any extra paper like a wadded up snot-rag on the other side. At other times, there were multiple patch jobs to cover up the places where he'd forgotten to leave enough paper to finish the job. Why this year's gift to Leo was a leftover orange box was unclear until the moment that the box mewed. Leo had just accepted the delivery and practically dropped the thing in shock.

"No, no, no," he babbled. "I ain't taking nada that needs a litter box."

"Why not?" Sam, challenged. "You've kept Fassbinder around."

"Open it up," Sharsky urged. "This one doesn't need photoshopping."

It wasn't exactly the stuff of a lolcatz video, but it was tiny and fluffy and striped and didn't seem to be as scared of Leo as Leo was of it.

"Does this tribble have a name?" Leo groaned.

"Gizmo," Sharsky said proudly. "Like all gremlins, it's destructive, adorable and shouldn't be fed after midnight."

The gremlin licked Leo's hand experimentally and, apparently not finding anything offensive on him, bumped his hand emphatically with his forehead. Leo flicked it away out of instinct and the poor thing mewed in a disconsolate kind of way. Lisbeth had the sudden urge to intervene and show the thing some affection, but Leo couldn't start out thinking that all problems could be solved by handing Gizmo off to the nearest girl. The next time Gizmo bumped his hand, he didn't retaliate. He just scratched it tentatively behind one ear. Lisbeth let out a sigh. The boy seemed to have at least one instinct.

"Needy little brat, isn't he?"

Sam looked on the point of saying something else about his roommate, but thought better of it. "Are you going to play with your toy or is he going to live forever in that crate?"

"Crate works for me," Leo said emphatically. "A lot easier to dump than a litter box."

"But that's inhumane,"Ssharsky argued, visibly crestfallen. "He won't have anywhere to play or sleep or eat…"

"Or crap in the shower," Leo pointed out. "Or scratch up the sofa. And my landlord and my security deposit will be happy about that."

"But you can't expect it to live its whole life in that box," Lisbeth insisted. "Where do you think you can keep him?"

"In the filing cabinet," Sam deadpanned. "It's worked before."

All the boys snorted in unison. The kitten mewed in protest of being ignored and Leo turned the crate on its side. Gizmo crept to the edge, gave the room an evaluating look, then crawled onto Leo's lap. Leo leaned back as if expecting the thing to launch himself at his face with claws extended. It did nothing more interesting or frightening than sniff at the barbecue-sauce stain on his kneecap. Wisely, the kitten decided not to lick that.

"Anyone else want a turn?" Leo asked, sounding a little too eager to pass his new baby along.

"Not me," Fassbinder protested. "I've got my cute, cuddly…"

"If you say 'plaything,' I will hurt you," Lisbeth said mildly.

"I'd like to see you try," he teased back.

They'd never gotten to the actual withholding part of a fight, but for all he knew, Lisbeth was one good debate away from crossing her legs and sending him on his way for good. It kept a little bit of excitement in the relationship when things got boring.

"Anyway," Fassbinder said, "I think my girl would get territorial if I started snuggling with something remotely as adorable as her."

"If you don't stop sounding like a _Twilight _fanfic right now, I'm gonna hurt you," Sam threatened.

Lisbeth didn't object to the endearments, even if her bespoke dumbo couldn't string together a romantic thought with the help of the Hallmark aisle at the grocery store. When he started making her sound like a My Little Pony, Lisbeth knew he was trying to be effusive. She had decided months ago that they could work on vocabulary as time went on.

"The question still ain't been answered," Leo pointed out a little more loudly. "I'm not snuggling this thing all night. Who else wants a turn?"

"Ladies first," Cam suggested.

"Allergies," Lisbeth lied. She was going to enjoy this much more as a spectator sport. "Why don't you try it out?"

Before anyone could object or suggest something else, Leo picked up Gizmo and dropped him into the probably-alien's waiting arms. Cam immediately dropped her, but that was all right, since she landed lightly on his legs and let out a slightly-indignant squeak of a meow. Then she tried to sniff out the unfamiliar territory and he became still as a rock, obviously waiting for the attack. It was like watching someone wait for a cute little bunny to sprout foot-long fangs. The kitten couldn't have been more than eight weeks old, so Lisbeth had no idea what he was so scared of, but if this was how he reacted to a half-pound of fluff, she was dying to expose him to her six-month-old cousin.

Other than the monolith act, Cam wasn't doing too badly, until he had to perform an extraction. When Gizmo started nosing around his crotch, he grabbed her by the tail and lifted her free. Lisbeth flinched and even Leo lunged to intervene.

"Not by the tail," Sam yelped.

"What happens if it falls off and kitty go splat?!" Sharsky blurted out.

The kitten started yowling and Cam, sensing that this was a bad sign, let her fall back onto his legs. She scrambled off his lap and went back to Mommy, which meant that Leo was stuck being the caregiver again. He didn't look any happier about it than the first time.

"Let's try this again, _viejito,_" he said through gritted teeth.

He handed the kitten off to Cam like it was a normal human baby, gripped under the armpits. Gizmo stopped yowling-it probably wasn't her preferred position, but it beat being swung around by her butt.

"Good," Sam encouraged. "If you hold her like a baby, she might let you pet her."

Cam seemed to process this for a moment, and then slapped the kitten against his shoulder as if she needed a burping. Lisbeth guessed that most of his experience with infant anythings had been limited to TV shows. But the kitten didn't squirm or yowl. It let out something that sounded like a baby fart but might have been a purr.

"Good," Sharsky encouraged. "Now try petting her. _Gently_."

That wasn't the best suggestion. Cam tried to pet Gizmo so gently that Lisbeth suspected his hand never actually touched fur.

"Not that gently," Sharsky prompted. "Treat her like a very furry Spitlet."

Lisbeth gave him a baffled look, but Cam's face lit up with understanding and he stroked the kitten from between its ears and down its back. The little thing started purring away and Cam's expression was almost one of bliss.

Alien or not, anything male that was that sweet to a helpless little fuzzball was a good man in Lisbeth's books.

"I got a coupla problems with this," Leo announced now that the crisis had passed.

"Your landlord won't evict you," Sharsky said. "Next?"

"I'm not taking Gizmo on a plane," Leo said. "Who's fuzz-sitting the little monster until I get back?"

"We can keep her in the filing cabinet with the robotics project," Fassbinder quipped.

Cam's cell phone let out a _Star Trek _klaxon. All eyes turned to Lisbeth and she could tell they were having another telepathic conversation about how best to manipulate her.

"I told you," she said primly, "I'm allergic." That was her story, and she was sticking to it. Besides, her Dad really _was_ allergic to cats.

"Oh don't get your panties in a twist, Spitz," Sharsky grinned. "If you would look in the envelope taped to the side of the carton..."

Leo, looking rather desperate, grabbed the previously unnoticed paper and opened it. He then sighed with relief and showed it off-it was a week and a half paid boarding at a kennel near the airport that also offered pet training.

"This still doesn't take care of the summer," he said, though not as vehemently as before.

"You'll figure it out," Sam assured him with a grin.

"So, _you_ don't have a problem with our apartment smelling like cat pee?" Leo demanded.

Sam shrugged, "I hear cats are cleaner than dogs, and I have two back home."

Leo harumphed but glanced back at the kitten who was now asleep in Cam's lap, and gave a small sigh. "Maybe I can get some royalty-free cat photos out of this," he muttered.

"That's the Christmas spirit!" Cam's cell phone played.

A buzzer went off in the kitchen and Sharsky jumped to his feet. "Gingerbread's ready."

The boys went to the kitchen then except Cam, who remained on the floor, enthralled by the sleeping kitten. They ate the warm gingerbread and washed it down with cold eggnog (Sam thought Lisbeth was weird for putting Sprite in her eggnog, but she ignored him). Lisbeth made a point of putting some of the gingerbread cookies on a plate and bringing them to Cam, since he clearly was taking his kitty-sitting duties seriously. He thanked her with a silent nod and she smiled. She was going to be okay with knowing this secret - for one thing, it made a lot of other things make sense about him and the way the boys treated him.

She returned to the kitchen and they talked about what they were hoping for on Christmas morning until they were stuffed and it was starting to get dark out.

"Well, I hate to be a party pooper, but I've got a bus to catch," Lisbeth said.

"We can give you a lift," Sam offered.

"No, you can't," Leo protested. "You've got to get me to the airport. And we've got to leave earlier than planned because of the little furball."

"Maybe next time," Lisbeth said.

Fassbinder saw her to the door and, with endearing chivalry, helped her into her coat and provided her with a grocery bag to carry away her loot in. As she was zipping up her coat, she noticed the side table behind the couch and her brow furrowed in confusion. It was full of toys, or so she thought at first. There was a Darth Vader action figure flanked by C3PO and Boba Fett. It was the weird animals, though, that gave her pause. All three figures were each leading something that she recognized as a tauntaun and walking in the direction of another grouping of figures. In a little handful of hay, R2-D2 was laid on his back and kneeling on either side were Han and Leia. Chewbacca and a flock of Ewoks stood off to one side. Luke, in flowing white paper towel, stood atop a cardboard box above them all.

"Is that…" Lisbeth burst out in giggles, "is that what I _think_ it is?"

"What?" Leo wondered and walked closer to see what she was laughing at.

"What else do you expect from a Jedi household?" Fassbinder demanded, though he was blushing just a little.

"A _Star Wars _creche," Leo said, sounding impressed. "Though, personally, I'd put C3PO as the angel and Luke as one of the wise men..."

Leo trailed off as Fassbinder elbowed him. "Naw, man, he's the gold! Get it?"

"So what is Darth Vader bringing?" Sam asked, joining them. "Frankincense or myrrh?"

Lisbeth stifled her giggles long enough to steal one last kiss from Fassbinder before heading out into the night. "Merry Christmas to all," she couldn't help but quote, raising her voice above their arguing, "and to all a good night."


End file.
